


Not an Echo

by propheticfire



Series: Scenes From Fics I Will Never Write [3]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Fix-it fic, Gen, Sort Of, barely, hints of cloneshipping, if you want to take it that way, long-lost brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 19:15:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12613532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/propheticfire/pseuds/propheticfire
Summary: And there was thatfeelingagain, and Fives was starting to wonder if he really wanted to know why it was there, becauseno, that wasn’t possible, and he should just shove that thought right down before it tore his chest apart.





	Not an Echo

“Rex! Rex, I’m here! I heard you were in this system, so I thought I’d drop by, and––”

Fives’ voice caught, and he slowed his upbeat jog across the hangar deck. Rex had emerged from the gunship, looking exhausted. But as he stepped aside, another figure was revealed. A clone, he had to be a clone. But his armor was different; just a padded suit and some chest plastoid. And his face was pale and sickly, the skin stretched tight over sharp bones and sunken deep into the hollow spots. And on his head, a series of large round dots––were they plugs of some kind? And his right arm…gone. Just gone. A long durasteel shaft in its place, that looked suspiciously like a dataport access connection. He barely looked human, and certainly looked like hell.

But when the trooper saw Fives, his steps faltered. A look came over his face, a hundred different emotions compressed into a few quirks of the eyebrows and quivers of the mouth. His eyes darted over Fives’ body, returning again and again to the tattoo at Fives’ temple.

Fives approached more slowly.“Rex,” he said again, but there was more caution in his voice. “Some of the boys contacted me, said you were passing through. They snuck me on board. It’s good to see you, sir.” He extended his hand.

Rex gave a tired smile and clasped Fives’ forearm in greeting. “You too. How’s life in hiding?”

“Eh, it’s all right. Could be more interesting.” Fives shrugged.

“More interesting than the Chancellor’s goons out trying to track you down and kill you.” Rex’s tone was serious, but a twinkle in his eye betrayed the humor.

Fives shrugged again and smirked. “Haven’t caught me yet.”

_“Fives?”_

The voice came from the other trooper unexpectedly, and Fives snapped his head around to look at him. But the tone hadn’t been one of surprise or recognition. It had sounded like concern or worry, with a slight accusatory edge. It seemed to say _What happened?_ and _What did you do?_ all at the same time. A nagging feeling in the back of Fives’ mind told him he should know that voice from somewhere.

“Yeah, that’s what they call me,” Fives said instead, extending his right hand to the trooper. Reflexively, the other trooper tried to return the gesture. Both of them paused only a whisper away from touching. Durasteel shaft. That’s right. Fives cleared his throat and awkwardly retracted his hand.

The other trooper let his eyes linger on the five tattoo at Fives’ temple again. “That’s what _you_ call you,” he said, after a time.

Fives’ eyebrows knit together. “I’m sorry, have we met before?” There was that nagging feeling again, in the back of his mind. “I’ve seen a lot of brothers, but you didn’t look like…this…last time I saw you. Sorry.”

Something that looked a lot like pain crossed the trooper’s face. But it was quickly replaced by a small, gentle, almost bittersweet smile. And there was that _feeling_ again, and Fives was starting to wonder if he really wanted to know why it was there, because _no_ , that wasn’t possible, and he should just shove that thought right down before it tore his chest apart.

The trooper must have seen something in Fives’ face, because he took a step forward and placed his left hand on Fives’ shoulder. “I know you don’t recognize me,” he said softly, “but I’m here. I’m alive. I’m not a ghost.”

Fives found it difficult to breathe all of a sudden. He stood, tense, as the trooper slid his hand down from Fives’ shoulder to rest, fingers splayed, on Fives’ chest. The trooper’s eyes drifted down to his hand, then back up, almost hesitantly, to meet Fives’ gaze.

“I’m not an… _echo_.”

Fives felt his heart explode. A flash of tingling cold swept across his skin. His breath caught in his throat and his head swam in white haze. A whimpering noise reached his ears, a quavering _“Echo?”_ Somewhere in the haze he realized it had come from himself. And suddenly the room was spinning and trembling, and the only thing keeping him grounded was the searing heat of the hand on his chest.

As Fives fell into the spinning white haze, he heard a voice, all too familiar now, and so achingly sweeter than any other sound in the galaxy:

“It’s good to see you again, brother.”

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to this piece, [Not a Dream](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12710049), was written for a tumblr prompt. Go check it out if you'd like.


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